Chapter 5 - The PhotographCora couldn't move.

Her father was sitting on the edge of her childhood bed.

The same blue quilt.

The same wooden dresser.

The same cracked lamp.

Except the photograph had been taken yesterday.

"That's impossible."

Dante didn't respond.

She grabbed the phone.

Zoomed in.

There was her father.

Older.

Thinner.

But undeniably him.

His eyes looked directly into the camera.

Cora's knees weakened.

"Dad..."

Elena stepped closer.

"Cora."

She looked up.

"He's alive."

"We don't know that."

"That's him."

Dante took back the phone.

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"The photo could have been manipulated."

Cora stared at him.

"Then why send it?"

"To get us to react."

"React to what?"

Dante's expression hardened.

"To the ledger."

He turned toward Elena.

"Get the files from the old property."

Elena nodded.

Cora grabbed his arm.

"Where?"

"Your parents' old house."

"I own it?"

"Technically."

"I haven't been there in years."

"That's where the ledger was hidden."

"What makes you think it's there?"

"My father searched everywhere else."

Cora stared.

"What happens if we find it?"

Dante looked at her.

"People die."

"More people?"

"Probably."

She swallowed.

"I want to go."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because that's exactly what Victor wants."

"Then what do you suggest?"

Dante was silent.

She stepped closer.

"You need me."

His eyes narrowed.

"I can read whatever my father wrote."

That stopped him.

Cora continued.

"You don't know how he organized numbers. I do."

Dante watched her.

"You could be walking into a trap."

"I already live inside one."

He exhaled.

"Fine."

The old house stood outside the city.

An hour later, Cora walked through the front door for the first time in fourteen years.

Everything smelled the same.

Dust.

Old wood.

Faded memories.

She stood in the hallway.

"This was my room."

Dante stayed behind her.

"Where did your father keep his papers?"

"Office."

They entered.

Cabinets lined the walls.

Cora opened drawers.

Receipts.

Tax forms.

Old bank statements.

Nothing.

Dante searched the bookshelf.

Elena checked the desk.

Cora looked around.

Then stopped.

She remembered something.

Her father used to say the same sentence whenever she asked him about the locked drawer.

"Some things are safer when they're not found."

Cora turned toward an old painting.

A landscape.

She touched the frame.

It shifted.

Dante saw it.

"What?"

She removed the painting.

There was a small steel box hidden behind it.

Dante pulled it free.

Locked.

Cora found a key inside the desk.

The box opened.

Inside was a leather notebook.

And a USB drive.

And a photograph.

Cora picked up the photo.

Her mother.

Her father.

Dante's father.

And Victor Kane.

But this photograph was different.

All four were smiling.

Dante went still.

"I've never seen that."

Cora turned the photograph over.

One sentence had been written on the back.

The fifth person knows everything.

Dante's eyes narrowed.

"Fifth person?"

Cora opened the notebook.

Most pages were filled with numbers.

She turned another.

Names.

Accounts.

Dates.

Payments.

Then she saw one name repeated more than any other.

Elena Hart.

Cora looked up.

Elena was standing in the doorway.

Her face was expressionless.

Dante turned.

"What?"

Elena didn't move.

Cora raised the notebook.

"Your name."

Elena's eyes dropped to the page.

Then she smiled.

Not warmly.

Not nervously.

Coldly.

Dante reached for his gun.

Elena raised hers first.

"Don't."

Dante froze.

Cora stepped backward.

"What are you doing?"

Elena looked at Cora.

"I was hoping you'd never remember this house."

Dante's voice became dangerously quiet.

"You betrayed me."

"No."

Elena's finger tightened around the trigger.

"I protected you."

Then she looked directly at Cora.

"From your father."

She fired.

Dante moved.

The bullet struck him in the shoulder.

He staggered.

Cora screamed.

Elena ran.

Dante grabbed the table to keep himself upright.

Cora rushed toward him.

"Dante!"

He looked at the notebook still in her hand.

"Don't lose it."

His knees buckled.

He hit the floor.

And Cora realized the bullet wasn't the worst part.

There were footsteps outside.

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